


Action

by MajorPidge (ScoracleTrash)



Series: Dressage [8]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Blood Kink, M/M, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:22:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25448314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScoracleTrash/pseuds/MajorPidge
Summary: Enric finally uses his new whip on Armitage, and the results are emotionally charged.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Enric Pryde
Series: Dressage [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839196
Kudos: 12





	Action

**Author's Note:**

> Action - another term for the movement of a horse.

Armitage had never been in this particular position in an interrogation room before. Hanging from the ceiling by wrist binders, naked to the waist, under an unforgiving light that distorted his vision of the shadowed perimeter of the room. It would haven been terrifying, were it not for the comforting voice at his ear from behind.

“You look so lovely like this, my dear boy,” purred Enric, stroking the young man’s warm and tingling back. He had just spent the better part of fifteen minutes working at the exposed skin with a leather flogger, preparing it for what was to come, and now was the time to pause and reinforce the connection between them. He placed a kiss on Armitage’s cheek and nuzzled his jaw, “What a lucky man I am, to see you like this, to have you at my mercy.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Armitage said.

“And are you ready?”

“Yes,” he hung his head down, chin against his chest, “I’m ready.”

Enric stepped away and retrieved his whip, which he brought around in a coil in his hand to the front of Armitage’s face. He didn’t even have to speak; the young man knew what to do, kissing the leather softly.

“Good boy.”

The whip disappeared behind Armitage.

Enric could throw a whip with the best of them. He was remarkably accurate, both in placement and in intensity.

Armitage was used to the pain of the cane and the flogger, teeth and nails. But the stinging kiss on his back at the whip cracked its first lash was unlike anything he had ever felt in his short life. His entire body tensed and he threw his head back with a cry.

“Too much?” His Owner asked.

“Oh no,” the young man answered honestly, “No, it’s perfect.”

It left a raised, angry mark on the skin, but it didn’t break it. Not yet.

The whip flew through the air in rapid succession three times, leaving the ginger with four identical marks on the four quadrants of his back. They stood out against the handful of scars that covered the skin, scars that never failed to fill Enric with a mixture of hatred and shame. Hatred of the man who gave them to his charge, shame that he never did anything to stop him.

At least he could be here now. That was the ultimate vengeance, wasn’t it? To be happy?

To Armitage, the pain was positively electric. It cut through every layer of defense he possessed and left the center of his soul exposed before his commanding officer, trembling in the light as did his buckling legs.

“How are we?” Enric asked, his fingertips caressing one of the welts.

“I can take more,” Armitage nodded, almost begging.

“Don’t do what you sometimes do and get caught up in taking more than you should just to prove you can.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

A hand ran through Armitage’s hair for a moment before Enric stepped back again, this time making a mark in the center of the young man’s back.

With each strike of the whip, the slender, white body hanging in the center of the room tensed, recoiling from the pain involuntarily, ribs pressing into torso skin, head thrown back, teeth gritted. Then an instant later it relaxed, arcing in the opposite direction, almost collapsing, head hanging limply, hair in his face. 

Enric had never seen him look so beautiful. He continued to mark his charge with his whip, causing the body to turn convex and concave, convex and concave, in rhythm with the crack of the leather.

Then, suddenly, he plunged his fingers into Armitage’s hair and rasped in his ear.

“Look at you. All mine. Taking such pain for me. You honor me so greatly, Armitage. You please me so well.”

“Thank you, sir,” the young man whispered.

“I’d like to make you bleed,” his tongue flicked out against the lobe of Armitage’s ear, “Would you like that?”

“Yes!” The young man panted, “Yes, make me bleed, I want to be a bloody mess for you, Daddy.”

“Perhaps not a bloody mess yet, but I do want your blood, and you never refuse me anything, do you, my good boy?” He kissed his cheek.

“No, never. Never!” Was it true? Perhaps not. There were plenty of times Armitage was defiant. But when it came to moments like this, he was obedient as a hound.

“This is going to hurt, darling,” Enric said from striking distance.

And then the leather of the wicked lash tore through the air with a crack, and through the skin on Armitage’s back like tissue paper.

“Fuck! Fuck, Enric!” The man’s cry was frantic.

The whip fell to the floor, the tip wet with blood. Enric’s arm went around Armitage’s chest, pulling his body close against his. Enric had long since removed his own tunic, and their skin seemed to meld like clay where the wetness of the blood distorted the boundaries between them.

“Fuck,” the ginger hissed again, “I think I’m done.”

“I would imagine so,” his mentor stepped back and placed a kiss on the nape of his neck, then leaned down to lick at the blood trailing from beneath his shoulder blades.

“Mmm, you almost taste sweet,” he purred, straightening up and dipping his fingers into the seeping redness. With it, he wrote his name across the skin of Armitage’s upper back. Then he released the binders holding the young man’s wrists, and his victim sank slowly to his knees.

“Little pain slut you are,” Enric said as he lowered himself along with his charge, and pulled the limp body into his lap. 

The tears began slowly. Soft sniffles into the crook of Enric’s neck, but before long they were flowing freely. The older man held fast to the younger, letting him cry until he had nothing left, wrapping him in his own tunic against the cold of the room.

“I can’t explain it,” Armitage said, “What it means. To be hurt by someone who loves you. It makes no sense, and yet it does, and to be safe. To be safe, for once, with someone, Enric, it takes my breath away every time. Part of me keeps thinking one of these days, you’ll hurt me and walk away and leave me broken, but you never do. You always scoop me up and let me fall apart and then you put me back together and I...I don’t understand why.”

“Because I love you, my boy. And because that is what any person worth their rank would do.”

“Well, there are a lot of people not worth their rank,” another sniffle.

Enric handed his charge a handkerchief, “Yes, there are. Fewer now that we’ve started cleaning house, but it does take time.”

“I had him killed you know,” Armitage whispered, “My father. I made certain he died in agony. Agony like the agony he gave me, the only thing he ever gave me. But it didn’t help. I didn’t feel any better. Nothing made me feel better, nothing until…” he looked into the man’s blue eyes, “Until you.”

Enric kissed his eyelids before capturing his lips, his arms around him careful to avoid the gash in his back, “I’m so glad I can be that for you. That I can be a part of your healing. I never want to do anything to hurt you. Know that.”

“You never have,” Armitage said, “As much as it makes me blink in disbelief, you’ve never hurt me.”

“Not in a way you haven’t begged me for, at least.”

Armitage smirked.

“Alright, love. Up you get. I’ve got to tend to that wound of yours, and you need to drink your tea and eat. Then I have half a mind to carry you back to my rooms, devil on whoever sees us.”

“I can walk,” he said, removing the loosened tunic and turning his back to his healer, “I promise.”

“I don’t doubt it. You have a remarkable ability to bounce back from whatever I do to you,” Enric placed a kiss on the round of his shoulder, “I love you, little one.”

“I love you too, Daddy. Always.”

“Always.”


End file.
